She Knew
by Yoyo Illuser
Summary: Linda knew many things about Matt, even when he didn’t express them in words…MattxLinda Oneshot


A Matt/Linda oneshot, on the serious side...I believe there should be more MattxLinda fics out there so I thought I'd upload mine...I hope you will enjoy it, feel free to send me any comments or reviews if you wish^^

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Linda knew Matt more than most of the children at the Orphanage. She knew what color his eyes were behind ever present goggles; glass tinted the color of sunset. She could tell you why he would slink away quietly at random times to sit behind the dumpster next to the playground, and even how many times that day he had been there. What his favorite games were, foods, even time of day. Why one striped shirt was worn from another, his secret love for vintage cars, favorite color, mood, expression, almost everything there was to know that made Matt who he was; Linda knew. But she would never tell anyone. These were for her alone, spoken, or sometimes not, softly in the middle of the night.

When all the lights were off and silence crept in along the halls outside their rooms, Matt would carefully push her door open without making a sound and enter. It didn't matter if she was asleep or not, she was up as soon as she felt the pressure against the edge of her bed. There he would sit, and she would sit with him, listening to him whisper about his day and everything that had happened. Hours would go by with nothing but the sound of his voice by her head as she rested against his shoulder, listening to his heart pouring out until her eyelids would droop and he would somehow notice. It didn't matter whether he was looking or not, but he could always tell when she was unable to stay awake any longer. Then he would gently lay her back down on the pillow and slip out.

Days were the same as well. Matt following behind Mello with his face down and arms up in deep concentration of whatever game system he had at the time. During the day he would never really speak to anyone, normally replying in short, one word answers to anything asked of him or simple head gestures when he could get away with it. Mello did most of the talking, and the decisions, with Matt always there to back him up. Or rather, always there at his back. It was at these times Linda would watch them both. Sketchbook against her legs, brush or pencil in hand, her eyes would follow the daily lives of everyone around her. This is what she drew, but mostly, she would draw Matt. The images along her pages were never really very different; if she held them up side by side it would be easy to tell that Matt didn't really express himself outwardly. He kept to himself, even if no one else noticed.

Every night though, except on occasions when he was caught; Matt was in her room. Sometimes when there was nothing to say they would just remain in each other's presence, waiting till one of them got tired first. It was never Matt. Always her head would nod forward before him and she would be tucked in. The last thing she always saw before drifting off was the door shutting, knowing that it would open again not long after the next curfew. When he wasn't talking, in those times of silence, Linda would often wonder why he was there. Or why it was her he was talking to. But she never outwardly asked him, always just listened.

Things changed when the news came. Mello had already left when word of L's death reached the other kids, most of which cried as soon as the truth sunk in. She cried too, alone in a corner of the play room with her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, hugging herself until her sobs stopped. Matt didn't cry. He didn't shed a single tear as he walked down the halls, hands in his pockets. Linda knew this was wrong. Matt never went anywhere without Mello leading the way, without his fingers busy at work and his goggles face down staring at his console. But for the first time she didn't watch, only buried her head deeper into her knees.

Dusk was settling when she made her way to her own room, hearing murmurs of Near having gone too and still more tears being shed. Her fingers traced her doorknob but stopped when it swayed open on its own. Matt was there on her bed, legs apart as he sat hunched with a cigarette to his lips. Eyes glanced up as soon as she was standing in her archway, and his expression said everything. Linda knew this wasn't like every night before. Squishing the remaining butt of his cigarette between two gloved fingers he stood up.

"Sorry."

That was all he said, an apology for the smoke or something else she couldn't tell, but there wasn't even time to ask for her chin was drawn up and his mouth was against hers before she could even blink in surprise. He tasted like ash, and tobacco, that was certain, but also sweet and even musky at the same time. The kiss was deep, his weight pushing in to her until she had to grab his arms to keep from falling, her fingers tightening against his sleeves. Who knows how long it actually lasted but both of them breathed ragged when they finally broke apart, eyes focused on each other as silence filled the room. His arms relaxed, pulled away, until they were standing apart once more. Then it hit her, even as she watched him walk to her door and out, as he had done countless times before, this time it was a goodbye.

Linda knew that Matt's eyes were the deepest shade of blue; she knew he would sit behind the dumpster and smoke alone when he thought no teachers were watching, and she knew she would never see him again…


End file.
